The Substitute Wife © 2015 by Amanda Barratt
One Way to the Altar © 2015 by Andrea Boeshaar with Christina Linstrot Miller
Keeper of My Heart © 2015 by Mona Hodgson
Blinded by Love © 2015 by Melissa Jagears
Bonnets and Bees © 2015 by Maureen Lang
A Groom for Josette © 2015 by Gabrielle Meyer
Wedded to Honor © 2015 by Jennifer Uhlarik
A Bride for Bear © 2015 by Erica Vetsch
Have Cash, Will Marry © 2015 by Renee Yancy
Print ISBN 978-1-63409-097-1
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63409-533-4
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-63409-534-1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in Canada.
Table of Contents
The Substitute Wife
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
One Way to the Altar
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Keeper of My Heart
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Blinded by Love
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Bonnets and Bees
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
A Groom for Josette
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Wedded to Honor
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
A Bride for Bear
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Have Cash, Will Marry
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
THE SUBSTITUTE WIFE
Amanda Barratt
Dedication
To my sister, Sara.
For all the laughter, late-night conversations, and loving my characters almost as much as I do.
You are a blessing and a treasure.
Chapter 1
Bristol, Connecticut
June, 1883
If men were mosquitoes, Grace Whittaker would be surrounded by every eligible gentleman in Bristol.
Instead she knelt outside in the family garden, not a man in sight. Unless one counted old Timothy Taylor watering his orchids next door. Audrey, on the other hand, sat in the blissfully cool parlor, her fiancé beside her. Giggling like a schoolgirl of sixteen instead of a bride-to-be, while Dr. Raymond McNair attempted serious conversation.
He failed miserably. What with Audrey rattling on about her dress, her bridesmaids, and the traveling theater company currently in town, the poor fellow barely got a word in edgewise.
Grace stood, rubbing the small of her back. At least she had a basket of roses to show for her labors. Something fragrant and summery to decorate the parlor with.
So much left to do. Including making sure Dr. McNair left at a reasonable hour. It wouldn’t do for the groom to see the bride the night before the wedding.
A sigh found its way to her lips. Tomorrow her sister forsook her girlhood forever, leaving Grace the only Whittaker child still at home. Of course, she would never dream of going anywhere.
Not that there was any place to go.
Grace crossed the porch and pushed open the door. Sunlight streamed through the tall front windows and cascaded over the honey-wood floor, now polished to a gloss. With the help of their cook, Mrs. Ackerman, she’d spent most of the morning waxing it. That is, when she hadn’t been occupied with packing Audrey’s trunk, shining the silver, and laying out the family’s best china. And a million other things.
More laughter streamed from the parlor, mingling with the muted melody of a Beethoven sonata. Audrey did love to perform. Especially when she had a rapt audience.
She entered the room quietly, so as not to interrupt. Audrey perched on the piano bench, her pink lawn skirts spread around her, a neat ribbon holding back her thick cinnamon-colored hair. Her face wasn’t reddened by the sun, nor her hands cracked and chapped. She was a lady. No wonder Dr. McNair was enraptured.
Out of the corner of her eye, Grace chanced a look at the man on the settee. A gray pin-striped suit encased his broad shoulders, and his mahogany brown hair had been slicked back with some sort of pomade. He flashed her a smile, his eyes crinkling, before riveting his gaze on Audrey. Fixated. Entranced. Just like every man, after her sister laid on the charm.
With Dr. McNair she slathered it a mile thick.
Audrey finished the piece with a flourish and spun around.
“Well? What do you think?”
“Very nice, darlin’. Very nice.” He crossed the room and rested his hand on Audrey’s
shoulder, in the possessive way of a husband-to-be.
Her green eyes narrowed. “Nice? Is that all you can think to say? I wonder if you even heard a note I played.”
“Why, darlin’, of course I did. I heard every bit of it. And ’twas fine indeed, sure it was.” He chuckled, though it rang false.
Grace pressed her hands behind her back. Audrey wasn’t about to have one of her tantrums, surely? Not with all the work that still needed to be done. Not in front of Dr. McNair, the night before their nuptials.
“Sure it was! Humph! I doubt you comprehended half of the emotion, the pathos of the piece. How could you, when you spend your days stitching people up?” Her cranberry lips screwed into a pout.
“Ah, darlin’. You know I love your music better than any sound in all the world.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “You’re just edgy, ’tis all. Fretting about tomorrow.” Grace could easily imagine him in his role as doctor, soothing an irritable patient with that voice of his. It slid over her ears, rich music, punctuated with the lilts and slurs of his native Ireland. Like hot and creamy chocolate steaming in a mug.
Audrey smiled, obviously mollified. “Oh, get on with you, you silver-tongued charmer. I’ve got lots of things to do before tomorrow.”
“As m’lady commands.” He kissed the nape of her neck, his arms around her waist.
Grace looked away. She shouldn’t be here, witnessing this tender moment between an almost married couple. Yet no one ever seemed to notice her, continuing on with their lives whether she was present or not.
As inconspicuous as the wallpaper.
A strange ache pinched her heart. Perhaps if she were pretty and lively like Audrey, a man might notice her. Look at her with love and longing, the way Dr. McNair did.
No. Audrey was satin slippers; she a pair of work boots. Practical. Dependable. Well worn.
And the sad truth remained. Men as handsome and distinguished as Raymond McNair wanted satin slippers.
Never boots.
Today, he’d gain his treasure.
Audrey Whittaker would become his beautiful bride. He, her adoring and adored husband. At last, he’d have a family to call his own.
Raymond rubbed a brush across the front of his new frockcoat, purchased especially for the occasion. He’d spent a pretty penny on his clothes, even more on the ring and the special gift he’d bought Audrey for their wedding night. But for her, it was worth it. He’d give her the moon if she asked him.
There. He stepped back and surveyed the array spread across the bed. Everything in readiness. Too bad he had over five hours to wait before going to the church.
He crossed to the window, gazing out at the street. A horse and buggy rattled past—the Taylor rig. Up early to make their weekly trip north to visit their children, as they did every Saturday morning. He waved, then leaned against the sill.
Lord, I pray Your blessing upon our marriage. May we love richly and give generously. And I pray, that if it be Your will, we would soon have a child to call our own. Amen.
He couldn’t wait another minute. Of course there’d be no seeing Audrey, but surely Grace wouldn’t mind if he dropped by the Whittaker house. Sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating one of Mrs. Ackerman’s featherlight strawberry muffins. Just to be near the woman he loved, even for half an hour.
It didn’t take long to dress quickly, not in his wedding finery, but in a simple everyday suit. Then he went out of the small apartment at the top of his medical practice. It always amazed him—the practicality of living above his office. If a patient arrived at one in the morning, or nine at night, he’d be only a few steps away.
Sadly, Audrey didn’t share his view. She wanted a proper house. But what woman wouldn’t? Though his apartment boasted four rooms, it wasn’t what a girl like her deserved.
Once he added a wee bit more to his savings, he’d buy her the home she desired.
At length, he arrived at the Whittaker residence, a spacious brick house in the heart of town. His marriage to the eldest daughter of Mr. Bromley Whittaker, owner of the finest dry goods store in Bristol, was a step in the right direction. Of course, even if she’d been a pauper, it wouldn’t have made a whit of difference. Not when he cared for her so.
He stepped onto the porch and gave a brisk rap. A moment later the door opened.
Grace stood just inside, an apron around her waist, her light brown hair twisted in a serviceable knot. She smiled, her pale gray eyes lighting.
“And a fine morning to you, Miss Grace.” He tipped his hat. “Might I beg a cup of coffee from Mrs. Ackerman?”
“You’re not supposed to be here.” She placed her hand on the door frame as if to bar him entrance. Although if he’d wanted to get in, it would be an easy task. Wouldn’t take much more than a stiff wind to plow the petite lass over.
“Aw, come now, Miss Grace.” He gave her his most charming grin. “I’m marrying your sister in just a few hours. I just want to be near her, ’tis all.”
She stepped aside, reluctance crimping her brow. “Very well. But if Audrey comes down, you’ll have to hide.”
“Agreed.” He moved past her, catching the scent of lemons. She looked tired, poor thing, dark circles under her eyes, a pale cast to her skin. No doubt the past weeks had been exhausting, assisting her sister with the planning and all. Strange. Audrey never showed fatigue, her features always as bright and cloudless as a summer day.
The warmth of the kitchen greeted him. Tantalizing scents of meat sizzling and coffee brewing made his mouth water. The Whittaker’s robust cook stood at the counter, putting finishing touches on an enormous three-tiered cake.
“What do you think you’re doing here, young man?” Mrs. Ackerman turned, brandishing her spoon like a weapon. “Today of all days! When I have so much work to do too.”
He hid a smile. “Why, Mrs. Ackerman, where did you get that absolutely divine cake? Did some fine restaurant from the city come and prepare it?” He gestured wildly. “Just look at the intricacies of the icing. The elegance of the … the …” How else could one describe a cake?
She beamed. “I made it myself, Dr. McNair, as you well know. You handsome devil, you. Now sit yourself down and I’ll get you some coffee and one of my strawberry muffins.”
He settled himself in a chair and drank in the peace that always swept over him at the Whittaker house. A home well run and properly managed. Soon, he would have such a place for himself. So very, very soon.
“Dr. McNair?”
He turned. Grace stood by the table, her face pale as bleached muslin. Her hands … were they shaking?
“Whatever is the matter?” Fire and thunder, the lass looked ready to collapse. His medical instincts sprang into action. Get her a chair so she didn’t fall on the floor. Some water. Salts volatile.
Her words stopped him short. “It’s Audrey.” Her breath came out in a shudder.
His heart kicked against his ribs. “What about Audrey?”
“She’s … she’s …”
He stood and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.
Grace swallowed hard. “She’s gone.”
Chapter 2
Her next words would tear this man’s world apart. Unravel it completely, link by link, strand by strand. Grace couldn’t bear to think of it. But she had to tell him. She’d already revealed the worst. The rest was just detail.
Her father chose that exact moment to lumber into the kitchen, glasses perched on his nose, paper beneath his arm. Like so many other mornings, he wore his faded velvet dressing gown over his vest and trousers. Unlike so many mornings, his carefully laid plans were about to change.
“More coffee in the dining room, if you please, Mrs. Ackerman.” Then his gaze landed on Dr. McNair. “What are you doing here, my boy? You should be at home. Not here where my daughter could come in and see you.”
“Father.” Grace did her best to steady her tone and speak with authority. “Audrey isn’t here.”
“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Her father’s brow knit until it seemed as if the two salt-and-pepper caterpillars under his forehead would plow into each other.
“She ran away. I found this.” Grace pulled the letter from her apron pocket. Audrey had left it in her chamber. Next to her wedding gown.
The contents had already stamped themselves indelibly on her brain, but she forced herself to listen as her father read aloud.
To my family,
Once you have received this letter, you will have already discovered my absence. I hope it shall not come as much of a surprise to you. Please do not take the trouble to search me out, as I have no desire for anyone to do so. I have grasped my future with both hands and have no intention of letting it go. Perhaps you may guess with whom I have thrown in my lot.
Please give Ray my sincerest apologies, and my dearest hopes for his health and happiness. Although he is not the man I love, I wish him only the best.
Love to all,
Audrey
The letter fluttered to the ground. Her father’s face reddened. Grace glanced from him to Dr. McNair. He stared into space, jaw clenched. Emotions battled in his formerly warm eyes, now cold as iron.
“Ungrateful little hussy. I know just where she’s gone. That traveling theater manager she’s talked so much about. Well, I hope she’s wretched indeed. Bringing this disgrace upon the family. The very day of her wedding to a decent, honest man.” Her father paced the room, arms swinging wildly. Mrs. Ackerman stood motionless by the cake, icing dripping off her spoon and pooling onto the floor.
Dr. McNair sank into his seat. He leaned his arms on the table, his strong, broad shoulders now crumpled in defeat. Grace’s own eyes filled with tears. Only moments ago, there had been so much happiness, such anticipation. Now it lay in a heap at their feet, a cold, dead pile of ashes.
Audrey was flighty, of course. Had flirted and flitted from beau to beau for years. It had been a relief to them all when she’d at last settled upon the new town doctor. She seemed so happy with him. No one would have ever dreamed she would do such a thing.
Except Grace. She’d seen the signs. The blushes whenever Mr. Ransom was mentioned. The excuses to stop by the theater company’s encampment whenever they passed that way. She should’ve known. Warned someone. Perhaps if she had, this never would have happened.
The Convenient Bride Collection: 9 Romances Grow from Marriage Partnerships Formed Out of Necessity Page 1